


Final Request

by EqualsTrashFlavoredTrash



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Blindfolds, Choking, F/M, Handcuffs, Light Bondage, Mentions of Death, Rough Sex, Spanking, Vaginal Fingering, spitting, thigh riding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-05
Updated: 2020-03-05
Packaged: 2021-03-01 04:34:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,338
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23029402
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EqualsTrashFlavoredTrash/pseuds/EqualsTrashFlavoredTrash
Summary: Mando catches a bounty who happens to be an old friend with a final request.
Relationships: The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian TV)/Reader, The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian TV)/You
Comments: 4
Kudos: 141





	Final Request

Tugging slightly on your shirt, you lowered the scoop collar enough to ensure some cleavage was showing before you raised your cuffed hands to rest on the headrest of your chair and arched your back a bit so your chest was more obvious. Then, quietly as you could, you slipped off your boots and raised a foot, gently running your big toe along his arm. 

The Mandalorian’s reaction was instant, head whipping around to look over his shoulder as his hand swooped to catch your ankle in a flash. The streaking stars of hyperspace reflected off his beskar helmet, following the curve of his head, almost hypnotizing to watch. Biting down on your bottom lip you tried your best to seem alluring while you had his attention. 

“So Mando, you’ve got me here in these binders, wanna fool around?” The proposition was more blunt than your usual pick-up lines, but one thing you knew about talking with the Mandalorian; it was best to get right to the point.

“What?” That was the answer you expected, though you still wished you could see his expression. There was nothing you could do about that, so you wiggled in your seat, freeing your foot from his grasp before elaborating.

“I don’t know if you’ve forgotten what bounty hunting entails but your guild will be delivering me to Crimson Dawn, who are very eager to get rid of me.” Rising from your seat you edged a knee over his legs, sitting yourself square on his lap as you brought your arms to loop around his head—the metal of the cuffs clicking when they met his beskar. “So I was thinking I might have some fun for the last time before facing my doom.” You tried to make eye contact but all you could see was your warped reflections in his dark visor. “You know I had a crush on you, Mando? Back when we worked together.”

“Why does Crimson Dawn want you dead?” he asked, surprising you for a second. You had been focused on his hands—which had come to rest on top of your folded legs—and how warm they were through the leather of his gloves.

“Well,” you hesitated slightly, thinking how best to condense the long story, “I was working with this girl and her gang, when Crimson Dawn hired them for a job. I thought it was a horrible idea—like it was a suicide mission—so I booked it.” You were used to gesturing while talking, but with your hands locked and resting on his shoulders, you ended up just wiggling more, shifting against the metal that protected his legs. You had also noticed the slow creep of his hands, making their way up your thighs towards your hips. “The problem was, I left with my cut of what they paid us up front,” you finished, making a sheepish expression with a half shrug.

“You ran?” 

“Yeah I ran, and now they want my head or their credits—which I don't have.” There was a brief moment of silence as you waited for him to respond.

“Why didn’t you run today?” 

Part of you hoped he wouldn’t ask that. Looking off to the side you chewed on your lip with a sigh as he stayed stoically still—save for his hands.

Your chin dropped, avoiding his gaze—though you couldn’t even see his eyes—focusing instead on the chipped paint around a deep scratch on the breastplate of his armor. “Once I heard through the grapevine that you were the one that had my puck, I knew it was pointless. I knew I couldn’t outrun you, I’ve seen you at work up close, remember?” 

One of his hands left your leg, raising to curl around the nape of your neck as his thumb pushed against your jaw, forcing your head forward to look at him. “Are you scared of me?” His voice came through low from the vocoder in his helmet, even and unreadable. 

You paused, biting at your lip again with no way to see how his eyes flitted to your mouth behind the visor. “Who wouldn’t be? I know what you can do with that blaster and honestly, I never thought I’d be on the receiving end of it.” You blushed at the admission, picturing in your mind all the times you’ve seen him handle his weapons—always confident, exact and deadly. Controlling his guns as if they were a natural extension of his arms. “I have to admit though, it is exciting to be at your mercy. Knowing you could do whatever you want with me.” 

Shifting the weight on your knees, you adjusted your position on his lap just a little bit to the side, so you could grind yourself against the inner lip of his cuisse. With an involuntary shudder you rolled against it, enjoying the way the ridge pressed against your clit. Bringing your cuffed wrists back over his head, you laid your palms flat on his chest—the metal feeling surprisingly warm against your fingertips as they slid across the breastplate of his armor. Through all this the Mandalorian stayed still, showing no sign of reaction, but you could feel his fingers tense for a moment, gripping you tighter as he realized what you were doing.

“Remember that job on Nar Shaddaa? When that alarm went off and you had to take out four guard droids at once?” You said leaning forward, inching your mouth closer to the earpiece on his helmet. The hand around your neck dropped as you moved, coming to rest clearly on the swell of your ass. “I came so hard in my bunk that night thinking about it. The way you plowed through them one by one, none of them even getting a scratch on you.” 

You rocked faster, your motions jostling the piece of metal as you humped his thigh, chasing the delicious friction. Maneuvering awkwardly with the cuffs, you pulled back just far enough to take his wrist in both your hands. You lifted his palm from your thigh and brought it deliberately to rest on the front of your neck. “I used to love watching you choke out bounties that got in your face. I’d imagine you doing the same to me while I rode your cock.”

Mando’s hand rested against your skin for a moment before he pulled away, bringing both to grab your hips, holding you still. The pressure of his grip sent a thrill up your spine. “This is what you want?” His voice was even and level—as hard to read as ever. Still, you could tell his hidden eyes were staring directly into yours through the tinted visor. 

“It is,” you answered with a nod, curling your fingers into his beskar breastplate. Gloved thumbs brushed above your waistband, rubbing small circles on the skin they found. A slight moan slipped out of you at the contact, your voice a higher pitched than intended as you finished, “I want it so bad.”

As soon as the words left your mouth, the Mandalorian’s hands pivoted, twisting your shirt in his fists before tearing it in half with two quick tugs. You were too shocked to react, not even processing what was happening as your newly exposed nipples hardened in the cool air of the ship. 

“Mando!” you yelped, trying to grab his arm but he easily swatted away your bound hands. “What are you doing?” You asked but received no answer as he continued, ripping off a whole strip of fabric from your top. 

You were still so confused by what was going on that you didn't fight as he wrapped the fabric around your eyes. Your head jostled side to side as he secured it, pulling the knot tight. You tried to look at the walls and modules of the cockpit—searching for the familiar, colorful lights of the controls—but there was nothing. 

“Can you see?” Mando asked, his voice suddenly bringing you back to him. You shook your head in response, not sure what this was all for when he started to shift. His hands scooped just under your bottom, pushing you upwards as he leaned forward. Then he hoisted you over his shoulder and stood. 

The beskar pauldron dug into your stomach while your arms hung down his back, useless in the heavy cuffs that swung and occasionally clinked against his armor. His bicep curled around your thighs, keeping your form balanced as he started to move. His opposite hand slid to your ass where it gave a quick smack. 

As if being upside down and dangling over his back wasn’t disorienting enough, you realized you had no idea where he was taking you. Sure, you’d been on the Razor Crest plenty of times before, but that was a while ago and you’d only really ever spent time in the main hold and cockpit—you weren’t sure you’d ever even used the ship’s refresher. You could hear a series of doors open and close, but had no way of tracking where he’d gone. 

Eventually he dropped you to the ground. You swayed, off balance and blind, trying to reach for him to brace yourself before you felt his hand on your collar bone. With an easy push he knocked off your feet, sending you tumbling backwards onto some kind of padding. It wasn’t exactly hard—there was still some give to the cushion—but it was not something you would call soft. 

Just as you realized this might be his bed, the Mandalorian’s hands were on you again, jerking the waistband of your pants down, off your legs. You shifted slightly, aiding in the progress as you raised your feet and helped kick them off, somehow twisting to lay on your stomach before you were finally free. Bringing your knees forward you went to roll back when he grabbed your hip, stopping you. 

“Stay like that,” he said, his voice tight. You could tell this was not a request.

You waited on your hands and knees, trying to be patient, and listened for any hint of what he was doing. You couldn’t help but wonder what this personal space looked like—Were there any decorations? Did he have any small collections? Trinkets that held old memories? Before now if someone asked you would’ve guessed that he slept in the pilot's seat sitting bolt upright—but now you knew he had a bed because you were in it. 

Naked. 

On all fours with your ass in the air, waiting for him to fuck you. 

You were abruptly made aware of the Mandalorian behind you when his hands grabbed around your hips, pulling you back against something strong and warm. It was his chest—his real chest—he had taken off his armor. Mando was still wearing a shirt but you didn’t care. Pushing back against him, you sighed at the pressure of him so close against you. He squeezed your hip, rutting against you as his other hand came to cup your breast. You were keening at the contact, loving the way he rolled your nipple between his fingers when you felt a sharp nip to your shoulder, accompanied by what you could’ve sworn was a warm breath.

“What—” you yelped, attempting to pull away but instead being held in place by his strong arms. His face found its way to your neck, nipping at the tender skin there. “Did you just bite me?” You asked, trying to keep your voice even as he drew closer to that particular spot behind your ear. Shying away, you dropped your head, pushing back but his hand left your hip to cup your chin, easily holding your head against your opposite shoulder—opening your neck to his lips. The next bite was hard, obviously trying to leave a mark as you let out something between a whimper and a moan. 

“What did you think the blindfold was for?” his voice was clear and in your ear as his lips brushed against it. He sounded so familiar but still completely different without the digital output. 

The next thing you knew he was maneuvering you to lay on your back, your head hitting a pillow as he drew one of your legs to curl around his hip—keeping you spread open as he knelt to your side. You let out a small ‘oof’ as you landed, feeling the way your torn shirt fell open, the bits left gathering along your sides. Drawing your arms forward, you made to cover yourself when his touch surprised you again. He jerked the binders above your head, yanking your arms up and leaving your chest exposed. 

“Keep them raised,” he ordered and you couldn’t help but nod in agreement as his hand started to trail down your side and across your belly, coming to curl over your mound. You’d had a crush on the Mandalorian since the first time you saw him take down a foe, and even with all the time you spent thinking of him as you touched yourself, you never thought you’d actually get to experience the real thing. Somewhere in the back of your mind you were suddenly grateful for all the missteps and bad luck that landed you on his ship.

You huffed as he started to rub your lips. He hummed, a sound from deep in his chest that fanned a fire in you. The Mandalorian was barely touching you and you were already trembling for him. His finger slid between your lips, and he groaned, “So wet already.” The digit pulled up and a rough callous you knew was from years of handling weapons and hunting bounties brushed against your clit. Back arching, you let out a sharp gasp and buried your face against your bicep. 

“Sensitive little pussy isn’t she?” Mando almost taunted. You could hear his grin, knowing he was watching the reactions he drew out of you as he swished his finger, barely applying any pressure. Adding a second, he rubbed both against your entrance—circling without sinking in. The light, tantalizing touches were both too much and not enough. You wriggled down on his fingers, feeling the way your walls fluttered at the possibility of having any part of him inside you. 

“I think she likes me.” Mando’s voice without the vocoder was a deep timber—something rich you’d never thought to imagine, but the sound of it made your gut flip with every word he spoke. 

The Mandalorian continued to rub your pussy, his brief touches kept you on an edge wanting more. You couldn’t help it when your hands flew up. Grabbing at his arm braced next to your ribs, you tried to get enough purchase to push yourself harder against his fingers. 

Before you were able to find relief, both of his hands wrapped around your forearms, pushing them back down next to your ears. His torso leaned forward to reach, bringing your leg around his hip further towards your chest, stretching the muscles in your groin. Despite the ache, you couldn’t help but notice just how wet one of his hands felt against your skin.

“I said keep them raised.” His tone was severe, any hint of teasing gone. Keeping his body pressed firmly over yours, he released one hand. You wondered for a moment what he was doing until you felt him smack you, hard, against your pussy. Though you jumped at the shock of contact, you barely moved with how well he had you pinned. “I expect you to behave,” he explained, rubbing against your lips before giving you another slap. “I am going to do whatever I want with you, just like you requested—” slap, “—and you’re going to take it like a good girl. Can you do that?”

You nodded at first but received one more smack. “Yes, yes I can—fuck, Mando—yes I can do that.”

“Good girl,” he purred in your ear, pulling back and taking his weight off your forearm to sit up. You kept still, waiting as he paused before you felt him lean back down. Thanks to the blindfold you had no warning when his lips crashed against yours. 

The Mandalorian’s kiss was hungry. Eagerly he nipped at your lips, not even waiting for permission before his tongue was in your mouth, exploring every inch it could find. Desperate for more contact, you pushed your chest up, feeling the fabric of his shirt drag across your nipples—ever mindful to keep your hands above your head as you rolled your body against him. That’s when you felt something hard pressed between his hips and your upturned thigh.

You were so focused on his mouth and the scratch of his facial hair, you didn’t notice his fingers until they slid into you. With a gasp your back arched as his touch dipped further. Mando captured your bottom lip with his teeth, bringing you back into the kiss as he pumped his arm. Curling his fingers, he dragged his touch along your inner walls, adding the perfect kind of pressure that sent jolts of tingles down your limbs.

He broke away with a pop, leaving you panting with swollen lips. As a natural post-kiss reaction you tried to open your eyes and found blackness, reminded again of the blindfold. You felt dazed with your head buzzing from the kiss and there was a notable ache between your legs.

“I'm going to roll you over,” Mando stated, grabbing your attention instantly. “I want you on your knees.” You shifted easily enough, guided by his hands on your waist as you adjusted—pulling yourself up and twisting to face away from him. 

Although you couldn’t see where Mando was when he wasn't touching you, you knew he was still watching. Propping yourself up on your elbows, you bowed your shoulders so your ass was in the air and wiggled your hips. You could hear the groan he let out, feeling how his weight bent the cushion around your knees as he settled behind you when his palm dropped with a crack against your ass. 

“Don’t stop,” Mando ordered as his hand left your now tingling skin. You moved faster, trying to add a flick and hoping it was a view he enjoyed. 

Your show ended suddenly when you felt something warm and blunt press against your mound. You moaned, rising to your hands as he pushed further against you. The head of Mando’s cock slipped between your lips easily. He slapped your ass again, this time grabbing a handful and pulling your cheeks apart so he could watch what he was doing to you. It felt delicious when he bumped against your clit—each time a heat flooded through you in waves.

Nudging forward, he sank into your warmth, gliding easily through the slick that had gathered. You bit your lip, humming in relief at the sensation. Mando began to rock, slowly working his way in, stretching your walls so that he could fit until his hips bumped against your ass. You couldn’t help but notice just how big he actually was. You felt so full but the ache of finally having him inside you only helped to stoke the elation that was bubbling up within you.

“She’s so tight,” he groaned, keeping still to just enjoy the warmth of your pussy enveloping his cock. His arms wrapped around your ribs, one hand grabbing at your tit as the other came to your neck. Squeezing your throat, he drew you up against his chest—the fabric of his shirt feeling scratchy against your sensitive skin. You gasped at both the pressure of his grip, and the way the head of his cock brushed against your walls as you shifted. 

Holding you in place with the hand around your neck, he reached down, sliding his other palm along the back of your arm before lifting at your elbow. You raised your hands how he guided until your arms were straight out in front of you. 

Maybe the lack of sight was heightening your other senses but you could almost feel the rumble in his chest so close to your back as he spoke, “I want you to keep your arms up like this, ok?” His breath was hot as it brushed against your ear, distracting you as you nodded your head and squeaked out a confirmation. 

The Mandalorian held you against him as he buried his nose in your hair, his slight moustache tickling the lip of your ear. “You’d do anything I want, wouldn’t you? You and this sweet little pussy,” he murmured as he started to rear his hips, drawing almost all the way out before slamming back in. “I want to see how much she can take.” He started to rock against you in short, hard thrusts while his hands dropped to your waist. Fingertips dug into your sides as he held you up, cool air quickly filling the space between you as his chest left your back. “Remember to keep your arms up,” Mando’s voice was clear but you could hear him grunting as he plunged into your warmth.

You tried, you really did try to follow his orders, and you lasted almost a full minute. But the way he was slamming into you—his cock bumping against a spot in you that sent a thrill up your spine with every push—and with the added weight of the binders, you couldn’t keep your arms in the air and quickly dropped forward crashing into the bed. Laying head first in his sheets you were overwhelmed by the unmistakable smell of Mando—something clean but musky that was impossible to replicate—that had sunk into his bedding over years of sleeping here. Face buried into the pillow you groaned, totally surrounded by him while trying to brace against the unrelenting pace he had settled into. 

Mando was saying something but you couldn't hear him over your own muffled wails. He slapped your ass again while his other fisted the tattered remains of the shirt you’d forgotten you were still wearing. With a hard yank he pulled you back—far enough your hands couldn't reach the bed but not so far you could brace yourself on your knees alone—effectively forcing you to hold your arms out in order to remain balanced as he fucked you.

“Fuck—Mando, please,” you begged, not able to think straight enough to fully articulate what you needed but he seemed to understand. His hips slowed and he pulled you further back to his chest again. 

You trembled as he wrapped his arms around you—one holding your own arms against your chest as his other came to your mouth. Two of his fingers slid past your lips as you rolled your head back to rest on his shoulder. Closing your mouth with a moan you sucked on his digits, swirling your tongue to make sure they were covered in saliva. He hummed in your ear, taking his hand away and drifting down your torso. Once his touch found your clit, his wet fingers started to draw little circles around the bud. You could’ve melted at the moment—that little pressure mixed with the slow grind of his cock inside you was quickly drawing out your orgasm.

“You gunna cum?” Mando asked, picking up the pace of his hand ever so slightly as you let out a breathy ‘yes’. Your hips moved on their own, chasing the tension you could feel building as the coil inside of you tightened, threatening to release at any second. “I want to feel that,” he all but growled in your ear, when his touch unexpectedly left your pussy, “But not yet.”

“What?” you gasped, feeling him pull out of you. There was an audible squelch as he slipped out, his cock thoroughly soaked with your juices that you could now feel leaking down your inner thighs. “No! Mando, wait—!” Kneeling in the middle of the bed you groped the air around you, looking for him with your hands. You nearly sobbed until his lips pressed against yours. Immediately your fists dug into the front of his shirt, pulling him closer as his tongue danced with yours. His fingers wove into your hair, his palm cupping the back of your skull, deepening the kiss for a moment before breaking away again. “No, Mando-o,” you whined, holding on tight when you heard him laugh.

“Look at you, such a desperate mess begging for me,” he mumbled, still chuckling as he pressed a comforting chaste kiss to your lips, “I’m not going anywhere, just laying down.” 

You relaxed your grip but still kept both palms on him as he settled back. Unable to see what he was doing you waited, feeling him adjusting his position before one of his hands squeezed your thigh, “Ok, climb on up.”

Hesitating for a second you eventually leaned forward, bracing yourself on his chest as you swung one knee over his thighs. The fabric of his trousers rubbed against you as you settled down, mopping up some of the slick mess that coated your legs. How you wish you could see the view before you; Mando laid out and sweating—eager for you. You could tell he was stroking his cock with one hand by the way his knuckles brushed against your mound, the other thumb swirling small circles over the sensitive skin of your inner thigh. 

Rising onto your knees, you scooted forward, bringing your hips closer to his. “Right there,” Mando hummed, stopping you with the hand on your waist as his other positioned himself. He swiped the head through your lips a few times, brushing against your clit with each pass. You could feel your legs trembling when he finally lined up with your hole. 

With a deep sigh you dropped your hips, pushing down against him. It felt right as he filled you, like you had been truly empty without him. Mando’s other hand came to rest on your thigh, groping and squeezing whatever he could reach as you eased yourself onto his length. 

You could hear his reaction, the soft groans as he enjoyed your warmth, before he finally hissed out, “Oh fu-uck.” The hitch in his voice made your insides vibrate. Your bottom came to settle on his hips—fully sheathed inside of you and deeper than before—and you could feel Mando shifting to sit up, pushing himself as one hand grabbed at your hair. 

“Filthy little slut, aren’t you? So wet for the bounty hunter that caught you,” he growled in your ear, holding your head in place as he pressed his nose to the side of your face so his stubble dragged across your cheek. In response you moaned and shifted your hips, unable to hide the reaction you felt at his words, “Easiest bounty I ever had.” 

His other hand flew up, wrapping around the column of your neck with ease. “You know you’re supposed to run from me, not beg me to fuck you,” The Mandalorian’s voice was low and chiding, having fun reminding you just how readily you’d given yourself up to him, and just how vulnerable to him you were right now. 

“Open your mouth.” You followed the command without hesitation, dropping your jaw as far as you could. He took a quick inhale and then spat, the glob of saliva landing square on your outstretched tongue. Closing your lips you made a show of swallowing hard, your throat pressing against his palm as you gulped. His grip tightened, fingers digging into your jugular hard enough to restrict blood flow. “You said you wanted this, now show me how bad.” Leaning back, his fist left your hair as he ordered, “Make yourself cum on my cock.”

Eager to please you started to grind down, rutting against him so that his pelvic bone hit your clit and the head of his cock bumped inside of you. Mando’s hand smacked hard against your ass and you let out a silent yelp, barely any air getting past with the way he held your neck. 

Bringing your palms to rest flat on his soft belly you lifted your hips instead—rising up, up, up and then dropping, reveling at the drag of his cock inside of you. You guessed he liked this too by the lack of spanking and so you continued, riding him as hard as you could. The way you moved—leaning forward with every rise—pressed your own throat harder into his palm choking yourself on his grip as you humped against him.

The broad expanse of his palm against your neck felt better than you had imagined, the way he held you in place, watching as you bounced and wailed. You could feel your end drawing rapidly closer, tiny shocks dancing through you as forewarning. Shifting your hands, you tried to rub your own clit but were unable to reach with the binders on. Mando noticed and brought his own thumb to press down on your bundle of nerves.

That contact of his finger alone was enough to push you over the edge. All of your limbs froze, tensing as you came. A staggered whine left your mouth as you felt your inner walls spasming around Mando’s cock. 

You were still careening, your mind blank as you felt him pushing up from underneath you. The head of his cock continued to ram against that spot inside you—feeling all too overwhelming—as you realized he had taken over when you slackened and was now thrusting up into you. Letting out a loud moan you tried to push him away, the overstimulation seemed to be leading to another orgasm edging in before the last had even finished, but he easily immoblized your cuffed hands and chased his own end, fucking up into your pussy as hard as he could.

You gasped and reeled, a complete mess above him, held up only by Mando’s hands as you crested again. The way your walls squeezed Mando’s dick as you came quickly brought him to his own release. Something warm pulsed inside you as his whole body went rigid, his hands gripping your wrist and neck flexed hard enough to bruise as he came with a gutteral sound from deep in his chest. He shifted, trying to push deeper before dropping to sag against the mattress. 

“Fuck,” he groaned, his hold on you loosening and falling to your hips. Your hands slid across his chest as you dropped forward to lay against him. Mando’s palms found your ass as you felt his softening cock slip out of your aching pussy. 

“Fuck is right,” you laughed, your breath dancing across his collarbone as you relaxed. His fingertips ghosted up your spine, brushing your skin ever so gently. “Screw all your bounties like that?” You teased, unable to hide your smile as you nudged your nose against his jaw—enjoying the scratch of his overgrown stubble. 

“Believe it or not, you’re the first,” the Mandalorian sighed, turning his head to capture your lips in a lazy kiss. 

“Glad you didn't throw me in carbonite right away,” you hummed, playfully nipping at his mouth as you laid, sprawled across his broad chest.

“That makes two of us,” he replied, helping to shift your dead weight to the side where you still remained wrapped around him. “If you give me a moment, you can take the blindfold off.” 

His offer was replied to with a groan as you clung tighter to him.

“Don’t go anywhere, I don’t even notice it anymore,” you yawned as you dug your fingers into his shirt, enjoying his arm around your shoulders. It wasn’t a lie—you were barely aware of the the fabric over your eyes as you nestled further into the warmth of his body, easily drifting off to sleep.

\---

Waking up you were beyond disoriented, with no idea where you had fallen asleep this time. That lasted until you shifted to sit up. A dozen different aches shot through your body, making themselves all known at once—the most prominent coming from between your thighs. 

Memories from the night before—was it the night before? How long had you been asleep?—flooded your mind and you shivered, remembering the ways the Mandalorian had touched you and all the dirty things he had whispered in your ear. That’s when you realized you weren’t wearing the blindfold or binders anymore. 

Rubbing at your wrists, you massaged where the cuffs had irritated your skin and looked around. There was nothing notable or personal about the space after all. Everything was in neat order, and clean, with almost no way to tell that someone actually lived here—no way except for the smell. 

Remnant whiffs of sex and sweat still hung in the air, but there was something under that—something deep and warm and comforting—that was purely the Mandalorian. You felt yourself relaxing, eased by the scent, as you shifted to sit on the edge of the bed despite the protest in your limbs.

Your thigh brushed against a soft, neatly folded black shirt—a perfect little square left out for you. Shrugging off the remnants of your old top, you felt yourself grinning. 

The shirt was warm, made from some type of wool, with long sleeves you had to roll up so they wouldn’t cover your hands. Once it was on, you couldn’t help but bring the collar to your nose and take a deep breath, inhaling his clean smell that clung to the fabric. 

You took your time getting dressed before leaving the bedroom, sure you’d never see this space again. Shaking your head, you chased away those dark thoughts, trying not to focus on the fact of your impending doom as you slowly made your way to the cockpit with ginger steps. 

Coming to the co-pilot's chair, you let out an involuntary groan while easing yourself into the seat. The sound caught the Mandalorian’s attention, who looked back over his shoulder, watching the way you winced as you settled in.

“How are you feeling?” He asked, his voice coming out flat and unreadable again, altered by his helmet. You noticed the slight tilt of his helmet, and shifted your hands, pulling the rolled cuffs down to cover the bruises from the binders.

“Sore,” you replied frankly but unable to hide the smile as you looked at him, reminded of all the reasons why you felt just so, “but it’s a good ache.” Mando said nothing in response but you got the sneaking suspicion that he was also smiling at the same memories.

“How much longer till we reach Nevarro?” The question broke the comfortable silence between the two of you, but that anxious part of your brain needed to know how much longer you had left.

“We’re not going to Nevarro,” the Mandalorian stated simply, the visor of his helmet staying trained on you. 

“What? But Greef’s on—,” you start but he was quick to interrupt.

“I’ve set the coordinates to some planet out of Crimson Dawn’s reach,” he began to explain, turning back to the ships controls as you sat with your mouth agape, frozen mid protest. “It’s somewhere they won’t find you.” Mando shuffled around, absently checking gauges and flipping switches. “I’ll tell the guild your body was destroyed, a bomb went off or something. Karga will vouch for me and then as far as anyone who cares to ask will ever know, you’ll be dead.” 

There was a long moment where the cockpit was totally silent, neither of you responding as you processed what he’d just said.

“Mando,” Your voice caught in your throat as you tried to talk. “Mando, do you still have that blindfold?” you asked quietly, grabbing his full attention as he twisted in his seat to look at you. 

“Yeah, I—uh, I do. Why?” You could see his hand shift to the pocket or pouch he’d tucked away the scrap of cloth. 

You were climbing onto his lap before he even realized you had stood up. Settling your weight on his thighs with your hands on his shoulders—just as you had been the day before—while ignoring the feeling in your joints as you inched closer. “Because I really want to kiss you right now.”

Mando held up the blindfold and you snatched it away, quick to secure it back around your eyes with a tight knot before reaching forward. Just as your fingers bumped against the edge of beskar, his hands were grabbing yours out of reflex.

“I can’t see anything, I promise,” you murmured while staying as still as possible, waiting for his grip to relax. When it did, his hands stayed on top of yours, cupping them as you began to lift. The helmet was heavier than you expected, weighty in your hands, as you held it between the pair of you. Leaning over the beskar dome, you brought your mouth to his. 

His lips felt warm and soft, welcoming and eager as he pressed back against you. Mando shifted, removing the helmet hugged between your bodies as one hand came to your jaw. Taking your bottom lip between his, he sucked as his moustache scratched along your skin. Your hands threaded into his hair, pressing yourself against him as hard as you could. 

“It’s going to take a day or so still,” Mando rasped, breaking the kiss to catch his breath but not pulling away, keeping you close enough his lips brushed against yours as he spoke. “A day or so until we reach the planet and I was—uh, I was thinking that we could—if you want to I mean, we don’t have to do anything if you’re still sore—.”

You got Mando to shut up with a hard kiss, rolling your hips against his as an answer. 


End file.
